


Suffocating (and the Meaning of Fear)

by RodimusPrime036



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: (Help this ghost), Crying ghost lol, Horror Elements, Look lowkey this may Rattle You so be careful, M/M, Mentioned Drowning? This has to do with water, One of Marksman's Top Ten Traumas, Solus Simping, characters not mentioned in tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28526247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodimusPrime036/pseuds/RodimusPrime036
Summary: 🏃♂️💨 if drowning, being trapped underwater, being in the dark and alone, and Deep Sea Monsters scare u, this is ur warning!!!Or; Titan is a scary place. (Please Send Help. He Needs It.)
Relationships: Ghost/Guardian (Destiny)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

The water below was loud, thunderous and crashing as it connected with the ancient pillars deep under the current. Frothing waves sent water droplets spattering on his armor, the rusty pipes and grating the only thing separating him from the frozen deeps below. He ignores this, and trudges along the creaking towers. "I can't believe they sent us to do this  _ alone."  _ Solus sounds cross, flitting up above his head and grumbling. Marksman hummed his agreement, his boots heavy on the metal. "I mean,  _ really,  _ of  _ every  _ Guardian-  _ us!"  _ (And he nods along, used to his ghost's pouting on dangerous missions.) "We'll be done soon," he assures quietly, hopping across a corroded grate and continuing. "Then we can go home and clean up." ( _ And I can hold you, and we can rest without risk, and I won't be walking across a death trap.)  _ Solus still doesn't seem pleased, but bobbed his shell in a nod and continues on. 

They find what they're looking for- a stack of containers, piled high atop a hanging platform that swayed sickeningly in the wind. Solus had set to work on scanning and transmatting them while Marksman stood guard, but the exo turned when Solus chirped curiously. "Oh- look at  _ this,"  _ he sounds delighted, and Marksman prowled closer and hummed. "This is  _ old,  _ very old supplies and electronics. I knew this place was from long ago- but this is all very interesting." (Marksman avoids snorting; of course his ghost was excited over old technology, it was cute and terribly endearing, and he nodded along as Solus rambled on about the containers content.) He listened- until he heard a sound that  _ wasn't  _ his ghost speaking. 

"Solus." He turned around. 

"And  _ this _ one- why, I've never-"

" _ Solus!"  _ The hive knight's sword swung before Solus twisted around, and Marksman fumbled with his gun before firing a shot that blasted its chitin to dust. He was confused; the knight hadn't gone for  _ him,  _ had seemingly swung at absolutely nothing at all- 

One of the thick metal wires holding up the platform snapped with a frightening crack, whipping violently through the air. The remaining crates screeched against the grates as they slid, and he spun rapidly. "Solus-" (and a heavy metal box collided with his chest, making him choke on his words as he was thrown off the platform like a sack of flour. And Solus is shouting, terrified and unintelligible, and he realizes with sudden clarity that he is  _ falling. _ ) He focuses a moment, tilts his head until he can see around the falling containers, and sees Solus as a tiny speck that disappeared in less that a moment.  _ Ah _ , he thinks.

He thinks nothing more when his back makes contact with the water, and he is knocked unconscious by the impact. 

  
  
  
  
  


Solus was panicking. That would be an understatement, actually, as the ghost was inconsolable as he wept in Ari's hands. Neptune was staring down into the water like it would reveal some secret while Ari attempted to soothe the little light, with Shaxx and Saint hovering nearby and Zavala grumbling into his comms. (The two larger titans had arrived at nearly the same time, with Osiris in the tower. Zavala had arrived soon after, and had left Ari to figure out what happened while he investigated the area.) 

"Solus, I need you to talk to me," she prompts, and the ghost's shell gave a violent shudder in times with his hiccuping sobs. It was frightening, how absolutely  _ devastated  _ the usually sparkling ghost had become. And how heartbreaking his awful weeping was, synthetic gasps and trembling whimpers as he shook in her hands. They had found him blaring his S.O.S signal within ten minutes of its announcement, trembling on the damp ground and already in hysterics. (It was awful.) Neptune glided over, humming softly and speaking carefully. "I'm going to tap into your memory, alright?" He doesn't get a response. "Right. I'm taking that as agreement." Ari carefully holds out Solus, and looks over to the titans as Neptune focused on the other ghost. Shaxx and Saint looked…  _ anxious.  _ Saint had his arms crossed behind his back, posture stiff despite how he swayed with the wind. Shaxx was eerily silent for once, looking distant with his arms over his chest, his frame tight and coiled like a spring. Zavala was still muttering to himself, seemingly noticing the whipping wire and the creaking, vertical platform. (She has a sudden, terrible realization that she may know what happened.) 

"Ah." Neptune sounds…  _ off,  _ and Ari turns back to him. Solus hasn't stopped crying. Neptune's shell twisted in a way similar to someone wringing their hands. 

"Marksman is, uhm-" 

"He's not  _ dead!"  _ Solus' voice is a shaking wail, shrill and distraught, and Neptune cringes as Ari gently pet at his shell.

"I know that- he's just-" 

"He  _ isn't!  _ He's down there and we need to find him!" Ari hushes him softly, stepping out to peer into the water before shaking her head and sighing. "How deep is it? Doubt tin-man would float." (Maybe her stressed humor wasn't appropriate, because Solus' weeping increases and she nervously continued to pat his flippers. She hoped Marksman wouldn't be mad that she upset his ghost more.) 

She startles when she is suddenly beside the titans, who join her in gazing down into the foaming waves. Saint and Shaxx are murmuring to one another, soft and inaudible, (and she can hear their tone, anxious and subdued.) "Worry not, little light," Saint is speaking to Solus, quiet and thick. "We will find your Guardian." Shaxx nods, and Ari copies the motion. (And she tries to ignore the needling fear, because she cannot recall a single story of one's lost to the seas of Titan.)

  
  
  
  
  


It replays, messy and rushed in his head. " _ We'll be done soon."  _ He wants to be angry, wants Marksman to be here to  _ see  _ him angry, because they  _ weren't  _ done, because they didn't go home and clean up and order food. He remembers the audible puff Marksman had given when the metal crate hit him, when he had disappeared in less than a moment, (when he had looked up at him as he fell and looked so  _ accepting.)  _ He wants to be  _ angry.  _ He is too busy sobbing at the sudden  _ loss.  _ He had gone blank the moment he hit the water-  _ he wasn't dead-  _ and Solus is so frightening aware that they are too far away, that he couldn't  _ do anything _ , that he was-

he was powerless. 

(Powerless as when the Darkness puppeted his shell, leaving him in the backseat as it used his voice. Powerless as he'd been  _ before  _ he found his Guardian, the same  _ empty,  _ painful and aching, he is  _ alone-)  _ Ari's hands are cold under her gloves. He knows this- he focuses on it even as he wept. She was twenty-two degrees colder than Marksman last time he touched him. He knows Saint and Shaxx are here, recognizes their Light, and he knows that if  _ his  _ titan were here, they would bump shoulders and laugh and annihilate any Hive on the planet that got in their way. Marksman is not here. 

He is powerless. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🎷🐛 🥁🐜 🎻🦗 🎸🐝
> 
> Hehehe bug band go brrr

Marksman has never known agony like this before. He wakes up, certain he is screaming, but there is no sound. Or, maybe there was; he knows his throat vibrates with sound, knows he can hear a dim, nearly inaudible sound, but he does not think he is screaming out loud.  _ Solus,  _ he doesn't say it outloud, (he doesn't think he  _ can,)  _ but he needs the pain to  _ stop.  _

The second thing he realizes is that he can't see very far. His eyes do not light ahead, his cheeks do not glow, and all he is aware of is the tiny little shapes spotting his vision, of the dim blue and a faint light that he can't pinpoint. He feels  _ crushed, _ his chest tight and strained- when he lifts an arm, there are  _ bubbles- _

Oh. 

It is a flood of memory- the knight, the wire, falling,  _ falling,  _ the water- where  _ was  _ he? He was underwater. How  _ deep _ ? Deep enough. (He is in agony, white hot and terrible. He can't feel his legs.) Marksman moves slowly, gently dragging his hands over his frame and whimpering an inaudible sound when he hit tender spots.  _ Remain calm,  _ he reminds himself, and he thinks he's crying as he keeps moving his arms.  _ Ah, that explained it. _ From his hips down, there was a tall metal container and sand. He drags his fingers along the crate, weeping at the sparks of pain that follow, and notes that there would be nothing beneath the box either.  _ Alright.  _ He can work with this. Slow, slow, he props his elbows under his back and drags backwards.  _ No-  _ he knows he must be screaming again, head thrown back into the sand at the immediate anguish that ripped at his stomach. There wasn't even anything  _ there,  _ it shouldn't have hurt so bad; that doesn't make the stab any better, and he knows he must be tearing whatever artificial nerves remained. Deep breath- no, no, don't breathe,- he heaves back again and wails into the depths, doesn't stop dragging himself back until he knows he's not crushed under the twisted metal. He has to stop then, dropped back into the sand, the shells and rocks, until the searing agony fades into manageable, and he can think of what to do.

He knows he needs to move  _ up.  _ He was trapped here, he needed to be out of the water. Alright,  _ focus.  _ Were there beaches here? No, but…  _ focus, focus.  _ No. But Solus had said once that there were old ladders that led into the water attached to the main buildings, from the original research crews. " _ Can you believe it? There are  _ **_still_ ** _ remaining ways into the water- imagine, being one of the  _ **_first_ ** _ research teams to study Titan!"  _ Solus,  _ Solus.  _ Oh, his ghost would be so upset with him. He needed  _ out.  _ Directions. He needed to know where he was and where he needed to go. They had been on… the  _ west  _ side of the main buildings. His inner compass can't seem to decide where it's going.  _ Alright, sun sets in the west.  _ He reminds himself that days on Titan lasted far longer than an Earth day. He didn't have long.  _ Alright, so where is it now?  _ He glares up, up at the dim sunlight, bouncing through the water. This wouldn't  _ work-  _ it  _ looked  _ closest to the west, which meant he had to go… east, yes, to get back to the main buildings. He wasn't at the lowest point in the waters, thankfully, and if he didn't move…  _ no. Don't think about that.  _

He steals his nerves and rolls over onto what remained of his midsection, sinking his fingers into the sand and releasing another burst of bubbles. 

  
  
  
  


Solus is aware of the exact moment his Guardian sparks back to life. He  _ feels  _ it, the sudden rush in the back of his mind, the way electricity bounces through his shell. "He's awake," he croaks, shaky and exhausted, (and he pretends not to notice how relieved Ari had been once his sobs had faded into synthetic sniffs.) "Is that good, or bad?" Saint's own voice is exhausted over the comms- they had been prowling the water for the last sixteen hours, seven minutes, and fourty-three seconds, it was no wonder the titan had grown tired. "It's good _ ,"  _ he murmurs back, staring down into the waves and shuddering at the furious waves. (It was a  _ sign.  _ The exo was smart, he'd make something up to get located.) 

The is aware his titan is hurting- can feel the distant agony on limbs that aren't his own, seeping through their bond. He wishes desperately he could help, that he could phase his Guardian through the methane sea and heal the pain, they could go home and get dinner and find a movie, and never come back to this rusted death trap again. "Solus, are you able to…?" 

"No." 

Ari nods softly, shoulders slumped and head hung low. Neptune and Solus rested on the water-stained concrete, staring down through the grating into the endless waves until it all blurred together, until he was reminded how  _ alone  _ he was, here without his exo. ( _ He's alive,  _ he hisses at himself, miserable and shaky,  _ he's alive, wait for a signal. _ ) "Little bird," Saint is soft, and he realizes it's in his private channel. He gives a quiet, nearly inaudible chirp, and the exo continued. "Do not give up hope. He is still fighting, he will not stop until he has you again." And he knows he is right, but it doesn't make him want to talk anymore. Still, he offered a tired, strained churr, and the titan hummed in reply. "Shaxx and I will not rest until he is found. We will find him." He adds, and the reassurance works… surprisingly well. Solus released a shuddering breath, drawing his shell closer and speaking softly. "Thank you."  _ He is as much ours as he is yours,  _ Saint doesn't add, but Solus understands the sentiment. They had practically raised the younger titan, it only made sense for them to be here trying to find him. (Besides, he thinks this is the longest time he's ever seen Shaxx  _ not  _ shouting about the Crucible. Actually, the human had been terribly quiet. It was concerning, though not as pressing as his missing Guardian.) 

"We will find him." Shaxx echoes, distant and tired, and Solus stares back into the waves.  _ We  _ **_will_ ** _ find you,  _ he says, and is met with another pulse of sparkling pain. (And  _ hope.) _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🎸🦐 🎺🦘 📯🦔 🎸🦎 oh god it's Bug Band's rival, Animal Band

Marksman is aware of nothing but pain as he heaves him along the muck-covered ground. Pain, and  _ fear-  _ Solus' fear that amplified his own. His fingers lost feeling after… he didn't know how long, but he knew that after the burning pain had faded there had been nothing. It doesn't matter; he kept sinking his fingers into the mud and dragging himself through the water. 

He was so cold _. So cold _ . If it wasn't for desperation, maybe he would have frozen- as was, he violently shook as he moved, propelled by terror, by adrenaline and fear.  _ He needed out.  _ He was suffocating, even if he didn't need to breathe, his chest crushed under the pressure. All sound was muffled, from his own strangled sobs to the rocks he moved when he dug his nails into the sand. There were other things-  _ bigger things,  _ wailing mournfully into the water, black serpentine shapes that slithered through the water like oil. (Was it even really water? That's what they called it, but he had an odd feeling it wasn't.) He would freeze when he saw them, beautiful and terrifying as they glided through the sea like mighty beasts in the sky, and he would weep when they were gone at the time he lost in their passings. Fear was not unfamiliar, but this was blinding terror, absolute and overwhelming, terrible and awful. 

He is cold, cold,  _ cold,  _ and he is so tired. The freezing temperatures had helped numb the pain over time, had made the stabbing agony fall into dull, occasionally searing pains. He could manage those, he could- 

He wakes up with his face in the mud. When he props himself up on his elbows again, scuttling sealife falls from his shoulders and scatters back to the shadows. Sand falls from his cheeks, from the creases and dips in his armor, and he screams as he tries to punch the sand. It does nothing but cloud his vision, so he grabs a rock and uses as much force as he can to slam it against another. It doesn't work well either, but the sharp sound is- is  _ sound,  _ so he lets himself sob as he continues beating the rocks together until the one in his hands broke and he cut his hands with the shards.  _ Okay.  _ Okay. He needs to move, he doesn't know how much time he just lost, but he needs to  _ move.  _ He… he has to be closer, doesn't he? He couldn't have lost too much time, there was no way he had been out longer than… than an hour. Yes, that felt right, so he grips a rock and uses it to heave himself through the sand again.  _ Solus, Solus,  _ he had a goal. The next rock he touches bites him. He crushes it under his hand and keeps moving. (He is so cold. He hated being cold- Solus would have laughed, would have turned on the heaters and scrounged up some blankets, would have cozied up on his chest while they found a movie and ordered him takeout- but Solus was  _ up, _ which meant  _ he  _ needed to be up as well.) 

He moves for a few more hours, until the agony bubbles up again and he collapses onto his back, clawing at the sand and sobbing into the silence. (Solus should have been there- should have sang and lit the way and kept the suffocating silence away, kept the shadows from dragging him back, kept the darkness from hissing at him when there was no other sounds. Solus wasn't here. He weeps harder and still hears no sounds. He wonders if his audials were damaged when he sank.) 

He doesn't keep track of how long he stares uselessly up at the sky, warped and wobbling through the water, a distant light that never gets closer. He rests until the shaking stops, until he can roll his neck without feeling like throwing up, (and finds that, added with his lack of stomach, so ridiculous that he spends another 5 minutes laughing through his tears.) 

He doesn't notice the serpent until it's jagged teeth sink through his armor and into his forearm, and suddenly he is moving so fast that he is reminded why he felt sick to begin with. 

  
  
  
  
  


Solus is getting  _ impatient.  _ It has been twenty-five hours, nineteen minutes, and two seconds since Marksman had gone under, and Ari had finally fallen asleep after Neptune's gentle chiding two hours and three minutes ago. Shaxx had taken over watching the ghost, standing stiff and silent with Solus huddled on his shoulder. Saint continued to prowl the waves in his ship, but Shaxx had been put to break once they realized how long it had been. " _ You won't be any good if you can't even see the waves,"  _ Saint had soothed when Shaxx had flared up, angry and harsh once Zavala had ordered him to take a break. " _ Keep an eye out up here, and tell me if you see anything. Solus needs company."  _ And the exo had pat his shell, nodded once to Shaxx, and returned to his ship. The human titan had still been angry at first, but had settled into quietly subdued as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared into the thundering waves. "Little light." Solus startles at his voice, tilts his shell slightly to show his attention. "What are you thinking?" ( _ Growing hopeless,  _ he doesn't say.  _ We need to find him. I can't be without him.)  _ "He's still alive. But he keeps… he keeps going out. I think we have, at most, another twenty-two hours." He pauses, hesitates, and then, softer. "I think- he's moving. He  _ is  _ moving, I just don't know  _ where.  _ If I were him, I would…" Shaxx turns to him, curious and eager, and he focuses. "I would try to find a way  _ up.  _ And the only way  _ up,  _ is-" he jerks up, chirping softly. "At the  _ main building,  _ which is to the  _ east. _ We're at the  _ west,  _ which means, if he could figure out his directions, he would be heading-  _ that way."  _ He gestures with his flippers, and Shaxx's voice rose to his usual shout. "Then we will stand by the main buildings! Send word to Saint, search east!" Neptune looks up, blinking once and chirping in confusion. "East?" He repeats, and Solus' shell dipped in a nod. "Neptune, surely you remember the old architecture? On the main pillars, there are ladders, the ones that the first settlers here made to go into the water to investigate. Marksman would go to those- it's a way out." Neptune looks concerned, shell closing slightly around his optic as it shrunk slightly. "Are they even still here? If made of the right material, I don't suppose methane would corrode it, but with water like this…" Shaxx huffs, shakes his head and starts the walk back to the main buildings. "If it isn't there, we can suit up and head into the water ourselves." (And Solus is frighteningly thankful- he knows both Shaxx and Saint would dive headfirst into the waves to retrieve the Guardian. He thanked the Traveler that they were here.) 

"Right. Neptune, tell Zavala we need gear for going below. If we can get a read on Marksman down there, we can get him out." Neptune hesitates, gazing between Artemis and Zavala, (who stood farther along the walkway,) before he nodded again and headed off towards the Awoken titan. Shaxx reached up, resting a hand atop his shell- rougher than Marksman or Shaxx, but still affectionate- and spoke low and firm. "No titan of mine will be slain by the sea," he sounds angry again, but a  _ determined  _ anger, as though threatening the very methane ocean that had claimed his exo. (And he knows that the waves wouldn't stand a chance.) 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🦦🍝🐁 they're on a date

If you had told Marksman this morning that he would be perfectly fine with being dragged through a methane sea by an oversized eel, he probably would have tossed you over the side of the tower. As was, said oversized eel was, at the very least, going the same direction he was, so he was content enough to let it drag him along. (Well, that was a lie; he had shoved a hand into the sand and yelped when a rock took a finger off, but, at the very least, he knew this was the right direction,  _ far  _ faster than he was able to move. 

The teeth sink deeper into his arms, sending a cloud of thick fluid clouding the methane around them. He spits a curse that sends whatever remaining bubbles he had left into the sea, and fumbles with the pockets in his chestpiece. (He wished he had his guns still- _ah,_ he would never see them again. No matter, that scout rifle had been awful, and it wasn't his good shotgun. No, _no, focus._ The bite reminds him of the rest of the stabbing pain, and he groans when he glides a finger along the blade of the knife he kept tucked away. By the _Traveler_ , if he made a list of everything wrong today he would be able to fill a book. It takes a few tries to grab the handle, and he wonders, briefly, if the blade would even do anything. It wasn't exactly a large knife, just something small to use in close quarters, and he felt so _weak._ (And, as though in response to his pain, a surge of fear ripples through his chest. Solus, Solus, Solus, right. He couldn't just let himself get killed here.) His hands hurt again, though he blames that on the newly exposed nerves and wires, and he grunts out an inaudible curse before looking up. _Right, okay-_ it had been… ten minutes? He felt so fuzzy again, distant and _cold._ ** _No._** He doesn't have time to pass out again. He raises the knife as best he can against the current, shouting as loud as he can- (and it is still so terribly quiet and distant-) and he throws his arm down as hard as he can. It sinks into the serpent's skin, soft and spongy, and the eel gave a shrill, shrieking cry as it wildly thrashed. The moment its teeth released his arm, another cloud of fluid hissed free. That was an issue- an issue for _later,_ because right now he was trying to heave the knife out of its soft skull without being thrown further back.

(He missed having all his fingers.) 

His knife gets torn free after a particularly violent shake, and he hits the sand again with a distant clacking sound, and it  _ hurts.  _ He howled into the sea, clutching wildly at the sand and rocks as though it would soothe the agony, writhing and  _ weeping. _ What did he  _ do?  _ Why was he still suffering? He wished he was human, awoken- he wished he drowned, that he died or  _ floated  _ and that he had all his fingers and that he still had a stomach, he wished they never came to Titan and that he had been faster on the knight, he screamed his anguish into the sea and listened as his howling cries were swallowed by the unforgiving ocean, which only made him scream more, until his voice cut out, until he silently wept and promised to whatever God, Traveler or not, that could hear him that he would never go near water again, if only he was  _ out.  _ He wished he could hold Solus again. Wished he could pet his shell, could watch the way his optic brightened when he was excited, could count _stars._

Then he sings. He can feel his throat vibrating, but there is no sound to echo. (He knows if there  _ was  _ sound, it would be ragged and wet and wobbling.) He stares up, faded and dizzy, watching a ship hide the sun in the same direction he had been going.  _ Oh,  _ he sighs, watching bubbles glide towards the surface. He wonders if anyone knows he's down here, aside from Solus. He wonders if people will remember him- the  _ great Guardian,  _ slain by boxes, trapped in the bottom of the sea.  _ The irony.  _ He tries to sing like Solus; changes his pitch, chirps and clicks. All the sounds are silent, but he knows his throat is vibrating, he knows that if Solus were here, they would sing  _ together.  _ He sobs, pressing his head to the sand, and lets the silent notes lull him to sweeter darkness.

He hopes Solus will forgive him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐 oh no the shrimp arrived send help they stole my garlic knots

"I've got something." Saint is speaking before he even touches the ground. His heavy boots give a loud  _ thunk _ when he transmats beside them, and he stares down into the water with unreadable posture. Solus bobbed his shell agreeably. "Me too." Shaxx seems surprised, if the way his shoulders tilt back says anything, but Solus focuses on Saint. (He doesn't let them know that he can't feel his Guardian, that he had gone quiet and cold on what little he had been able to pick up before. At the very least, he had a general idea, a brief moment of clarity, and he tries to block out the memory of his frightened titan singing in the darkness, alone and cold and  _ hurt.)  _ "He's thirty to sixty feet away from where the ladder should be, I can't get it exactly though." His voice is thick now, strained and tight.  _ (They were so close,  _ he pleads,  _ just hold on, they would be there soon.)  _

Saint gives a brief nod, seeming distracted as he hooks the thick metal wiring around his shoulders and waist like a harness, the other end of the coil knotted tight around a concrete pillar. Shaxx helps, quick and efficient, until the large exo is safety secured, and then he prowls up to the edge of the platform. "West," he mutters, accent thick and rolling, "you will wait until I give signal before you take us back. Ghost, get Zavala." (Solus doesn't even have time to scold for calling him 'Ghost,' because the titan's own ghost hovers by the grating- and then Saint steps over the edge and plummets into the crashing waves. He wonders if Saint is as afraid as Marksman had been. He doubts it.) 

Five minutes have passed since Saint jumped. Zavala and Shaxx hover near the wire, which still has not run out of spool. Solus holds his breath- knows he does not need to, but the silence in their bond  _ hurt,  _ his  _ Guardian _ was hurt _ ,  _ he needed out of the water. Amanda's ship touches down at the ten minute mark, and she comes bustling out and snags Ari to help her organize her ship. (Tools to stabilize what the ghost couldn't, towels and tarps, and Solus knows that Marksman would appreciate her thoughtfulness when he recognizes a fluffy blanket stored under the towels.) Thirteen minutes, fifty two seconds- the line is abruptly pulled taut, and Shaxx heaves the wire back with enough force he knows Saint would be breathless if he had to breath. Zavala helps, and the two titans work together to coil the metal rope and bring the exos back to the surface. "This is too light," Shaxx grunts, throws another handful of coil back behind him and Solus jerks forward to stare down into the water. "There's two life signatures." He murmurs softly, and Shaxx gives a hum. "Maybe our Guardian lost some armor?" He suggests, (and Solus has a frightening feeling that it's worse than that.) He nods either way. 

When Saint is back on the platform, he flits over worriedly. "Saint? Did you-" his words cut off into a shrill wheeze, jagged and strained, and Saint cringes from where he stands. It was no wonder Marksman had been lighter than usual- everything below his stomach was a tangled mess of wires and metal, water and darker fluid puddling off his frame and hitting the concrete with gentle  _ patpatpat _ s. A quick looked showed more; he was missing a total of three fingers- two on one hand, one on the other. There was little more than wires holding one arm together, the fingers there spasming in time with the sparks that hissed from his inner workings. Water poured from his plating, polluted with the darker liquids, cloudy yet shimmering in the light. He was giving out a terribly warbled sound, an echoing track that sounded like silverware in a garbage disposal, and half his helmet was dented inwards. He can't see  _ that _ damage yet, but Ari gives a choked sound at the sight of him, and Amanda stutters her steps as she looked over from laying out a plastic tarp. "Bring 'im here," she calls after a moment, and Saint is so terribly careful as he totes the limp exo towards the tarp. Solus doesn't realize he's heaving shuddering breaths until Ari carefully cradles him in her hands, and Neptune is peering at him from inside her hood. He strangles back the rising emotion, the weeping that tries to fight through his shell, and he gives another shrill sound as the two exos sank down to the floor and Marksman gave a sound so terrible it made his shell pull tight around his optic. Shaxx and Saint kneel beside the smaller titan, seemingly unbothered by the growing pool of liquid bubbling through his plating, and Ari cautiously moves closer before joining them. " _ Oh, _ " he whispers, trembling weakly as Shaxx reached out to pry the helmet off. The horned metal clattered against the concrete, and he is once again horrified by the damage beneath. Aside from the immediate flood of water that poured free, Marksman looked…  _ bad. And he looked  _ **_awake._ ** Only one eye glowed- a shuttering yellow that wavered and clicked as it changed size, the other a pit of black and glass. He stared distantly up, unfocused and blank, and Saint gave a soft breath as he reached out and rested a fist over the exo's sparking forearm. Abruptly Marksman  _ moves,  _ jerking his functioning arm under his frame and twisting wildly, heaving a terrible, ragged wail as he thrashed away from the group around him. His eye is sparking furiously before shattering in a shower of sparks and glass, and he crumbles backwards again, keening desperately as he threw his head back against the pavement and violently shook. (Saint looked horrified, jerking away before Shaxx curled his fingers around his seizing head and held firm. Solus understood why- the exo would only hurt himself more thrashing like he was, but the awful, waterlogged howling he was releasing was the worst sound Solus had ever heard.) 

After a brief moment, Saint rested his hands on the smaller titan's shoulders and murmured tender apologies as he pressed down, successfully pinning the golden exo on the tarp until he stopped writhing and seemed to fall completely still. A quick look showed why- Amanda had stuck an odd looking piece metal towards the back of his neck, and it disappeared halfway into the soft mesh before he had stopped violently shaking. "So-" he chokes, a thick mixture of black sludge and liquid bubbling out of his cheeks,  _ dripdripdrip _ ping down to the tarp below. A low, strangled groan tore free from his throat, the sound torn and ragged. " _ Solus-"  _ (and Solus feels a sob tear through his shell, strained and weepy.) "We're here, beloved," he coos, his voice awful and shaky even to his own audials. Marksman doesn't even seem to hear him, fingers clawing at the tarp while his hand trembled. The exo continued whimpering his name, sounding as though his vocalizer had been put through a blender as he croaked up at the sky. (Shaxx's hands trembled from their places, his thumbs brushing water off the little titan's cheeks.) One side of his jaw hung at an odd, useless angle, clinging to the rest of his face by a few little wires, motionless even as his voicebox continued mournfully warbling his name. "Oh, my love," the ghost whispered softly, watching Amanda pry at his chestpiece and gauntlets until the exo was stripped of his armor. (He looked so frighteningly small, a shaking bundle of torn gold and grey, whimpering strained little sounds.) 

"Ari, can you run 'n grab me some towels? We ought to get 'im cleaned up before we try 'n work with this." The hunter rose quickly, carefully resting Solus in Saint's lap before scampering off to collect the fluffy cloths. "Shaxx 'n Saint, once he's dried off, we gotta take him back to my ship so me 'n Solus can put 'im back together." (He doesn't like how that's worded. He also doesn't like that someone  _ else  _ would be touching his Guardian, but now wasn't the time for jealousy. No, he had far more important things to fuss over.) Amanda and Saint work on getting the worst of the fluid- patting carefully at his patting, propping his head up on a folded towel while they work. After a few minutes, she nodded, and Shaxx heaved the exo up into his arms and rose cautiously. Marksman doesn't react- he seemed out again, head tucked under Shaxx's helmet, limp as a ramen noodle. (It was awful- he wasn't smiling, wasn't chirping to Solus about what they would do when they got home, wasn't chatting about dinner and a movie. It had been thirty-eight hours since he last heard his Guardian  _ healthy.)  _

Amanda's ship isn't the biggest, but she had at least cleared up the cot to make space for the exo. The two parent titan's hovered nearby, soft and worried, while Solus curled himself into the crook between Marksman's elbow and his chest. His shell expanded outwards, soft blue Light rippling out over his frame and seeping under his plating, and he knows his exo is relaxing- distantly, he  _ feels  _ it, feels the distant pain fading back into a dull ache, the way his forced shutdown lightened as the agony danced back into numbness. 

He may not have been in perfect shape, but his Guardian was  _ here,  _ pressed against his shell, physical and solid, (and Solus lets himself softly weep when Saint and Shaxx return to their ship, when Amanda takes off to the tower for better supplies.) Marksman is motionless when the ship moves, he is silent and still, and he doesn't generate heat as he usually did- but Solus can hear his thick, artificial breaths, can see the way water oozes from his frame as his chest rose and deflated, the way his fingers twitched with each harmless spark, and he is  _ alive. _

He doesn't know if his tears are from lingering fear or the terrible  _ relief,  _ but he knows his Guardian is cold, and needed a blanket. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🧍♂️🔫🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐 help the shrimp are holding me hostage

Marksman still hadn't woken up. He looked nearly perfect- Amanda and Saint hadn't rested until he was back in one piece, Ari helping where she could, (though mostly just in charge of taking care of all the water that still sloshed in his chest.) He was _pretty;_ brilliantly colored, unscratched gold, the original plating buffed and waxed back to nearly new. Solus hadn't settled until he and Ari had went out and gotten the titan new armor, added the proper shaders and gotten his helmet fixed up. Everything was ready- he just needed to _wake up._

A week passes with no activity. He wasn't _dead,_ Solus knew that, he would wake up when he was ready, but it didn't stop him from shaking as he curled into his elbow, didn't stop him from sniffing back tears each night that dragged by in the silence. Ari kept him good company- she and Neptune hardly left him alone except at night, distracted him with plans for when he woke up, with movies and trips out for flowers and gifts that would hopefully make his exo happier when he rose. (His personal favorite was the big, fluffy bear he had spotted and begged Ari to stop for. It was bigger than Marksman's entire chest, and he positioned it on the stand beside his cot so that he could have it near when he woke up. _He had to wake up._ ) "We went to the store today, beloved," he speaks into the silence, curled into his side, and isn't put off when he doesn't get a reply. "The ramen shop you like is waiting for you. I told them I would get takeout when you woke up. Ari and I went and got you a new armor set three days ago. Your old one wouldn't work anymore, considering half of it was missing." He giggles, thick and sniffly, and he lets his voice wobble as he continues. "Shaxx keeps telling you to wake up. He says you're missing too much Crucible. This will be your second week of trials as well- your fireteam hasn't played without you." He hiccups, his words growing difficult to say. "I miss you. You're right here, I know, but- I miss when you'd wake me up at three a.m to go walk through the city, and self-care Saturdays. Ari and Neptune, and Shaxx and Saint, they keep me company. I feel so alone without you though." He buries himself in his forearm, hiding against the golden plating. "I love you. Please wake up soon." (And he doesn't get a response, not that he expected one, but he _wishes._ ) 

Three more days pass. Shaxx and Saint stop by every day, staying two hours each morning and three hours each night standing silently by his bedside. He refuses Ari's attempts at pulling him away, remaining huddled into his Guardian's frame and quietly telling him about their company. "Saint and Shaxx visited again today. Saint brought you a lemon cake- you'd better wake up soon, before it gets stale. They're the nice ones you like, with the fancy white frosting on top." ( _Like the last three.)_ "He tied a ribbon around your arm, too, but he didn't tell me why. Shaxx sat beside you for a long time today. He didn't talk this time, he just stared at you before sighing and leaving. I think he misses you more than he wants to admit." ( _I think_ **_I_ ** _miss you more than him though.)_ "I wish we never went to Titan. I thought I was going to lose you again, you know. I still remember how you looked at me when you fell… could I have done something different? I don't think so. I don't know how- how _scared_ you were, all alone down there. I understand if you don't want to wake up for a while, in case… in case you're still scared. Just- remember you aren't alone, okay? I'm not going to leave until you wake up." He hiccups, butts his freckle into his hand softly. (And he would reach back, would pet at his shell and coo sweet names, and he would scold him for worrying him so much.) "I love you. _Please_ wake up soon." (And he doesn't reach back, but Solus doesn't let it drag him down too much.) " _Please."_

Another four days drag by- they are at two weeks, and Solus stops talking when people come in. Osiris makes an appearance with Saint, and now Saint speaks softly to the fallen exo. "Little bird," he murmurs, and he is holding one of Marksman's hands in both of his. "It is time to wake up now. The tower is not the same without you, they mourn you when you are still here." He pried his helmet off, gently pressing his forehead to Marksman's knuckles and speaking in a voice so terribly broken compared to his usual soothing growl. "We miss your song, little bird. I know you are tired, but the world is waiting for you to come back to us." He remains there another hour before rising, giving Solus a terribly tired look. "Do not lose hope, little light," he whispers, and Solus' shell trembles. "He is there. He will come back for you." His helmet fits back on with a soft click, and he and Osiris quietly leave the room. He goes back to his Guardian. "Did you hear that, beloved? You need to wake up now. It's in the afternoon- that means we have time to go find dinner and set up for a movie. And I'd bet you Shaxx, and Saint and Ari- they'd want to join to, and we can order lots of food. I'd bet they'd even," he releases a sob he didn't know he was choking on. " _I bet they'd even give you their bread, if you would just_ **_wake up._ ** _"_

He doesn't know how long he sobs there, shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. It's dark outside by the time he collects himself, by the time he rises up and settles in a trembling little heat on Marksman's chest. "I love you. _Please wake up._ I need you now." And there is no sign he is heard, so he heaves a shuddering breath and begins to sing, soft and shaky, and he sings to try and chase away the terrible silence-

And he is shocked, when five minutes into his song, a rasping grumble.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🧍♂️🔫🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐🦐 🗡🐛 oh god it's the Bassassin, please help Bassassin they took my garlic knots

Marksman is dragged through the dark by a melody. Time didn't exist; he floated in the middle of nowhere, and he was  _ content.  _ Guiltily so- people  _ needed  _ him, but he felt safe here, in the abyss. He knows people are talking to him, distantly, hears muffled sounds and fuzzy, unfocused conversations, but he cannot drag himself from the tar in his mind- his safety, his prison, growing increasingly sticky and suffocating. (But he was not in pain, not like he used to be. He soaks in the feeling of numbness, and he floats, and he does not know how long he is hovering in the area between alive and dead, before he hears a melody.) 

It is Solus' song, and his darkened cage is burst apart by a light so blinding it nearly hurts. Familiar clicks and hums, sweet chirps and whistles- he is aware he exists, that he has a voice, and it tears at his throat even as he replies- strained growls and wheezing churrs, and the melody stops so abruptly it makes him cringe. Did he ruin it? He feels so tired… 

  
  
  
  
  


Solus startles at the sound, stiff and silent as his Guardian heaves croaking music in return. The sound is ragged, like crunched gravel and broken glass- and  _ it is his Guardian.  _ "Marksman?" He bites back his hope, shell trembling, and nearly weeps when his exo gives a wordless mumble in reply. His eyes pry open, dim and unfocused, clicking as they widen and shrink until they're large and dimmed. "Hmmm," he hums, jaw moving like he was chewing the sound, before his eyes slowly slid down the wall and rested lazily on the ghost. "Bayy-bee," his pronunciation is slurred and exhausted, but a big, sleepy grin stretches his cheeks and crinkles the corners of his eyes. (He looks drugged, Solus realizes, and then he promptly weeps.) 

Marksman's dim smile fades into a slanty-eyed frown, and when his hand collapses around his shell, it is heavy and chilled and- and he was  _ touching him- _ "whuzz'a matter?" He blinks, leaves his eyes closed a full ten seconds before opening them again, and Solus shudders under his fingers. " _ Marksman."  _ He wheezes, thick and wet and choked, and he pets his flippers with thick, clumsy fingers. "Mmhm," he drawls back, (and Solus furiously pings for the titans, before Marksman can fade out again.) "Oh, y'er… y'er so pretty…" he's suddenly grinning again, but his head is pressed back into the pillows, his eyes are closed- "Marksman!" He cries, sharp and distraught, and the exo jerked back up to attention with an unfocused slant around the room. "Mmm," and Solus realizes it quickly- the mental trauma hadn't caught up yet, and the Guardian was dazed and most likely completely unaware of the entire event. (He wouldn't be, soon, when he stirred awake the next time, but he was for now.) "Oh, my  _ love,"  _ and he trembles under his fingers, which are slowly warming, "my beloved, my darling-" 

" _ Marksman!"  _ Shaxx's thunderous cry interrupts whatever else he may have said, and he hauls into the room faster than he'd ever seen the titan move before. "Dad!" Marksman's sleepy shout is hardly a shout at all, but Saint is just a step behind Shaxx, bustling into their bedroom in a flash of silvers and purples. "Other dad!" And it makes him laugh, the sound hiccuping and weepy, at Marksman's slurred excitement. The two don't skip a beat, practically skidding as they slide in beside the bed, and Saint's knees hit the ground with a heavy thunk as he fumbled for his free hand. "Little bird," (Solus can't remember ever hearing such wonderful  _ relief  _ in the exo's voice.) "Oh, welcome back!" And Marksman's honey-gold eyes slant curiously, despite the exhaustion softening his features. "Where wuz' I?" Solus shakes his shell under Saint's quick look, and the titan shook his head fondly. "Home. You were home." Shaxx, bends at the hips, claspd a hand over Marksman's shoulder and pressed the front of his helmet to the little titan's forehead. "The Crucible beckons," he says, voice low and grumbling and  _ pleased.  _ "The city missed you while you slept." ( **_I_ ** _ missed you while you slept,  _ the human doesn't say, but Solus knows it is there.)

Marksman hasn't released him yet, sleepy paw still cradling his shell as he grinned up at the titan's around him. "Mm, tell Ari 'h said 'hi.'" He murmurs. Resting his head back in the pillows, his eyes slid closed again, and Solus feels momentary panic bubbling under his shell. "'M tired," he mumbles, and Saint rubbed circles into the back of his hand with his thumbs and spoke in a softer purr. "Save your strength, little bird, and we will be here when you wake up." Marksman nodded, slow and drawn out, not reopening his eyes even as he went though the motion. "Hmm. Love you," he says to the room, (and his fingers  _ taptap _ on Solus' shell. He nuzzles closer to the offending digits, whispering his reply back. " _ I love you too, please make sure to wake up.")  _

  
  
  
  
  


The next time he drags himself awake is far less pleasant. The exo is suddenly aware of how  _ exhausted  _ he was, mentally and physically, and he fumbles over his frame to make a count as the panic sinks teeth into his chest.  _ Two legs, ten figures, both arms,  _ a quick touch over his head showed full restoration, and he was  _ dry.  _ And someone was snoring. He opened his eyes to a dark room- a dark room with little bursts of colorful lights; Saint's helmet glowed dimly, a purple haze over his lap as his head was tilted down. Saint leaned heavily against Shaxx's, who's head was tilted back into the wall- and was the cause of the snoring. The two were on the floor, close enough to the bed to get to him in case of emergency- (he was under the water, he was suffocating, he was alone, it was  _ dark-)  _

__

__ "Marksman?"

Solus' voice is a gentle whisper, and his brilliant blue optic blinked up at him. (He realized his breathing had picked up, soft and ragged, and he took a moment to settle the sound before replying.) "My Light," he whispers back, and is aware of Solus' immediate trembling. "Were you hurt?" He keeps his voice a gentle murmur, barely audible as to avoid waking the other titan's, and Solus pressed harder into his hand and gave a tight little wheezing sound. "No," he finally replies, and Marksman nodded slowly as he turned back to the ceiling. "How long was I out?" It is silent for a long time. He doesn't interrupt it. "Just over two weeks," Solus says after a minute, and Marksman shoves his head harder into the pillows and hisses through the gaps in his cheeks. "Oh, my heart…" he whispers, curls his fingers tighter around his shell, and is surprised by the ferocity in Solus' tone. "Don't you  _ dare  _ think that you could have changed anything," he hissed, pressed his optic harder into his hand and let his light curl like a bracelet around the exo's wrist. He hums softly, grazing his thumb over his center and shaking his head softly. (He tries to block the memories of serpents and agony, shuts out the clawing reminder of exposed nerves and needing to tear himself in half- a shudder wracks his frame either way, and he runs his free hand over the section of his stomach that had been ripped apart less than a month before. If he focuses hard enough, he can still feel the currents rolling over his frame, see the shadows above him, if he loses himself, the snoring sounds like the distan tcrashing of waves.) " _ Solus,"  _ he breathes, and he can hear his own breath laboring. "Can you-  _ touch,"  _ he manages after a moment, and Solus gives a quiet coo, seperates his shell and lets soft blue light roll against his midsection. The warmth is a stark comparison from the cold that had been creeping through his frame, and he is suddenly terribly thankful- this was  _ intimate  _ for his ghost, and he is acutely aware of Saint and Shaxx still dozing in the corner. He can't find it in him to be anxious, not when the fear is doused and tucked away under the tendrils of Light, just solid enough to ground him as he exhaled, soft and shaky. "Get some more rest," Solus murmurs, and Marksman clicked softly. "I love you," he whispers, then; "I promise I'll wake up." 

Solus' voice breaks on the gentle, " _ I love you too,"  _ and he hopes his ghost can rest easier with his promise.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 🏃♂️💨💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 🗡🐛 thank you Bassassin for saving me from the shrimp!

"... can you _believe_ it? _Shaxx,_ quiet for longer than thirty seconds!" Solus knows he's talking too much- but Marksman hasn't looked away from him, nodding along to his words as he rested his fingers on his shell and rested, propped up by pillows and cozy in his blankets. (And he stares back, watching the fuzzy, sleepy look in his eyes, the way his head dips before he fumbles back up- and he is confused with how hard his titan fought sleep.) "And…" he trails off, quiet and careful as he continues. "You should rest more, love. Amanda said your body is-" (reconnecting after being sawed in half) "-fixing itself up, so it's normal that you're tired." Marksman blinks, slow and confused, before his fingers _taptaptap_ against his shell. (Ah, something had stressed him out again.) 

Rain pattered noisily against the windows, a gentle rumble of sound. Marksman's gaze flit from the curtains back to the ghost, his eyes a brilliant shade of electric yellow, before one hand lowered to paw softly at his midsection. (Just below center the two yellow plates on his stomach, sounded on either side by flexible grey mesh and protected by smaller sections of gold. Solus cringes slightly.) "It doesn't hurt anymore," he says quickly, thumbs curiously at the difference in metals- the newer material was barren of any small scratches or dents, soft and shiny. Marksman doesn't look up. "I keep thinking it should though. I keep opening my eyes- and everything is blurry and I think it should hurt, but it doesn't." He flexes his fingers, curling them slowly into a fist, his other hand still tapping against his shell. "And I'm so  _ tired,  _ but what if I'm not even really here?" 

"What do you mean?"

"Just- you know, like," he gestures vaguely, curls his frame until the ghost rests on the bed instead of his belly, hunkered around him like a cat with a kitten. "Like I'll wake up…  _ there,  _ again. Like I died. And I know that's  _ stupid,  _ but-" his hands are shaking, "it was so  _ dark.  _ Everything hurt so bad and it was so  _ cold,  _ and I remember exactly how it happened- sometimes I close my eyes and those  _ eels _ again," he suddenly laughs, trembling and strained. "I can probably thank one of those for getting Saint's attention, actually." (Solus doesn't ask why. He thinks he could guess, judging by the teeth they had pried out of his arm.) "But- but sometimes it doesn't feel real. I didn't want to, but I- I was ready to die." The ghost heaved a shuddering whine, butting into his palm and dimming his optic, and Marksman makes a face, coos and twists until he can nuzzle their faces together, and  _ he  _ was soothing  _ Solus. _ He doesn't laugh at the irony.

"You're here," he finally whispers, and his Light reaches tentatively for Marksman's. They were  _ bonded;  _ their Light was like blending paints, familiar as it met and folded together, a gentle pressure of warmth and comfort as they molded into one another. For a moment, Solus fades out- the physical melted away into the  _ contact,  _ their Light lapping together like soft waves-  _ he pointedly doesn't think about water,-  _ swaying and curling like flames, and Marksman is  _ content,  _ his eyes a deep honey-gold, half lidded and pleased, as entranced in their invisible dance as Solus was-

Ari is a blur as she tears through the door, her voice loud and jarring in their silent intimacy. "Sup guys! I found a-" she stops abruptly, squinting at them near suspiciously. "Oh, did I interupt something?" And she steps closer to the bed, and Marksman  _ growls _ , pawing Solus' shell closer as his plating flared like a furious cat. Ari laughed then, holding her hands up in a surrendering pose even as she danced away from the mattress. "Oh, calm down, I'm not here to kidnap your ghost," she chides, teasing and amused as she reaches into a pocket and waves around an odd looking sliver of silver. "Saint's gonna be bringin' up some food- did you know you haven't eaten yet since ya woke up?" Marksman blinks owlishly, still half hunched over Solus' shell. "Yeah, well you haven't. So he's bringing up dinner,  _ I  _ got the movie, and we're gonna be doing something about your face." (Solus seems more offended than Marksman is at that last comment, and Ari grins as she waves a paintbrush around.) 

  
  
  
  
  


Before they sit to eat, Saint loops an arm around Marksman's waist and heaves him to his feet. He looks every bit like a fawn; stumbling and wobbly, slinging an arm over Saint's shoulder to avoid falling as he swayed where he stood. It was to be expected- Amanda had warned them that Solus couldn't force this. That Marksman's inner pieces needed to realign, needed to adjust and click back together before he even thought of returning to duties. (Solus wonders how he'll ever be able to let his titan back on field again.)

Shaxx had been busy running Crucible, but had sent Saint with strict orders to start Marksman back on the path of recovering- thus, Saint guided the pajama-clad exo out into the hallway outside their apartment door, much to Solus' furious disagreement, and had left two ghosts and a hunter behind in the apartment. Ari, after resting with her hands on her hips, had set to work on making the bed. (And looked terribly offended at the absolute disaster of blankets that added extra inches to the matress.) "Does he not like, burn up?" She complains, after smoothing out the fourth blanket and glowering down at the other three on the floor. (Solus doesn't tell her about the box under the bed.) "No, he usually only sleeps under two at a time, unless he's really cold." Solus hums back, staring impatiently at the door. Neptune watches him curiously, tone amused when he spoke. "You watch that door any longer and you'll burn a hole in it. It's only been what, five-"

"It's been seven minutes and fourteen seconds," Solus interrupts, and Ari huffs on a laugh. "You certainly keep track, don't you?" Her tone is teasing, but affectionate, and he grumbles softly. "I don't want to be separated after-" his words die out, and he can feel Ari and Neptune staring at him. He squirms under their attention, finally giving a sigh. Then he pauses. No,  _ no,  _ something was bad- the abrupt flood of adrenalin isn't  _ his,  _ the terrible muted fear that rips through his shell was  _ Marksman's.  _ "Ari," he breathes, and she is hovering by him in a moment, concern hanging off her features at the way his tone warbles. "They're going to be back any second." He finally hisses, (and his shell trembles. It isn't even his  _ own  _ fear, but it consumes his thoughts, mutes out his usual quick thinking- and this was those feelings as  _ backburner.  _ What was his titan feeling, with that awful, devouring _ terror?)  _

Saint shoulders the door open with enough force that it slams into the wall, giving a crack so loud Neptune's shell twisted and expanded in time with his startled chirp. Ari jumps, twisting to face the exo- Solus notes the difference immediately. Saint's armor dripped with gathered water, and Marksman's clothing was dark, sticking to his frame, making him look impossibly small. He already looked small enough- the little titan was cradled like a baby in Saint's arms, entire body shuddering like a leaf in a hurricane. "He wanted to see Shaxx," the dark exo sounds distraught, fumbling to close the door around his handful of gold. "I didn't think the rain would-" he cuts himself off with a soft sound, nearly a whine, and Ari scoops the remaining blankets off the floor and gestures towards the bed. "Let's get him warmed up," she advises, and Saint gives Solus a hesitant look. (Solus knows why- he was the titan's partner, and Saint felt responsible for his shuddering exo- he was asking permission. Solus bobbed his shell in a nod, and Saint crept across the room to sink against the matress.) 

Marksman was… a  _ sight.  _ He looked like a kitten abandoned in a storm, violently trembling and tucked away against the legendary titan's chest. His eyes are wide- a sparking yellow that expanded and shrunk wildly as he whipped his gaze around the room. And he is not  _ seeing  _ them; looking through them as though they aren't even there. His fingers press into his plating, pawing weakly at his stomach before he gives a terrible, shaking sound more comparable to a wail than anything else, (and he's going to hurt himself if he keeps clawing at his belly like that.) 

"Saint." He murmurs, because if Marksman was going to be unresponsive, then he would need to be the clear-headed one. The exo looked up sharply, (and Solus tries to ignore the way his purple eyes waver and slant in a way so much like Marksman's.) "Blanket," he finally prompts, and the titan blinked once before turning to Ari. She hovered close by, peering down at the smaller exo- (who had now begun to  _ weep,  _ hiccuping, shuddering sobs that made Solus want to scream at whatever had caused him such anguish.  _ Caused by the rain.)  _ Saint fumbles uselessly with the blanket Ari thrusts into his hands, and after a moment the hunter huffed before working to help cocoon the titan in a tight ball of fluffy blankets. He writhed a moment- gave another of those terrible wails, then settled on feverishly shaking and gasping for shuddering breaths. The Russian-accented exo adjusted his grip on the golden blanket-burrito, cooing like a mother bird to her chick and rocking him like a  _ baby,  _ and Solus rested carefully atop the shuddering blankets and quietly mimicked Saint's soft croons. 

He watches, attentive and concerned, until Marksman's eyes dim into a deep gold and then close completely, until his trembling sobs ease into soft breaths and his shaking form stills and slumps into Saint's lap. (And Ari had started the movie, had carefully settled in beside the other titan with Neptune cozied in the crook of her neck, and he knows without saying anything that they wouldn't be leaving until his Guardian stirred again.) 


	9. Chapter 9

Marksman stirs to the distant sound of a movie being put on. He feels fuzzy, tired and _out_ , and he's swaying as though he's on a hammock, and he is _comfortable…_ "Ah," Saint's voice is a hushed whisper, and he _feels_ the way his chest vibrates when he speaks. "I saw those eyes, little bird, time for you to come back to us." And he grumbles, fully content in his heated pile of blankets, but when he hears Saint's huffing laugh he cracks an eye back open and brightens it to a dim yellow. "Pop," he greets sleepily, uncertain as to why he was being cradled like a child, but _cozy_ nonetheless. (He can't use his arms, he notes distantly, tangled too tightly in the blankets. And Saint is giving low, rumbling purrs, even deeper than his own, vibrating around him, and he closes his eyes again and butts his forehead into the void titan's chestpiece.) "Goodmorning, chick," Saint sounds _teasing-_ he growls at the nickname, no real anger behind the sound as he rolls his head around the room. "Mmm. Solus." he blinks slowly, brow furrowing at the lack of Ghost. "Pop, where's Solus?" And Saint hums patiently, adjusting the blankets around him and continuing their slow swaying. "Worry not, little bird. Ari and Neptune took him to get you dinner less than ten minutes ago." He hummed sleepily, nodding slowly before tucking his head back against Saint's shoulder and closing his eyes again. "Whu'zz th'a time?" He drawls, already feeling drowsy again, and Saint's growling purrs continue. (He joins the sound, sighing quietly as he offered his own rumbling.) "Nearly eleven," he replies patiently, tilting his head down to gently bump his forehead into the top of the golden exo's head, and Marksman squirmed in his fluffy prison until he was able to tear his arms free and stretch them over his legs. "How are you feeling?" Saint asks after a moment, and the solar titan yawned and gazed dimly around the room again. "Tired," he confesses. "And hungry. My stomach hurts." (Saint cringes, and he pats a fist on the silver chestplate.) "At least I have a stomach _to_ be hungry again," he tries to joke, giggling even as the void titan cast him a disapproving look. "What? A l'il over two weeks ago, I wouldn't even be able to _be_ hungry. I'd say it calls for celebration." Saint rests a massive hand on his face, and Marksman laughed as he tried to wriggle free. " _Hush,"_ Saint orders, and Marksman giggles again as he thrashed his head about and curled his hands around his wrist. "Pop-" he cries indignantly, yelping when they tumble off the bed in a pile of metal and blankets, and he wheezes as he's squashed under the other exo. "You are _so lucky I don't have a tongue or I'd_ ** _lick your hand-"_** he squeals when Saint's attention changes, his armored fingers catching in his shirt to prod at his softer plating over where ribs would be, dancing over his sides as he shrieked with laughter and furiously shoved at the titan's chest. (It didn't do anything; Saint was massive and _heavy_ , pinning him easily, and his legs were still caged in heavy blankets despite his squirming.) " _Pop!"_ He cried again, jerking upwards to cage his arms around the other exo's shoulders and twisting wildly until he brought him toppling over the floor. They struggle there, a mess of blankets and pillows, fighting one another though laughter and shouting- 

The door clicks open, and Marksman's head hits the floor with a rough  _ thunk  _ as he flailed about to try and look over. Ari is upside down from this perspective, with Neptune and Solus weaving around her shoulders with equal looks of surprise. And he knows why; a grin brightened his features, Saint completely still from where he'd been pinning his forearm and shoulder to the ground, large hand still pressed into his exposed side, the blankets thrown and messy in a pile on the floor- he shouts his displeasure when Saint gives a final dance across his ribs, snorting on his next inhale as he fought to settle his breathing as Saint sat up and beamed at their audience. "Ah!" He cried, waving them over and hefting Marksman back up into his arms to deposite him with a grunt onto the mattress. (He bounces, yelping when he nearly falls again, and Saint laughs as he nudges him back into the center of the bed.) "Did you bring dinner?" Solus blinks across the room, and Saint turns his attention to Ari as the ghost scanned over his Guardian and chirped eagerly. "Love!" He butt his optic to Marksman's forehead, nuzzling eagerly against him and giving a delighted hum when Marksman returned the affection. 

"How do you feel?" 

"Everyone keeps asking me that-"

"You had another episode-"

"I feel… okay _ ,  _ my soul." He raises a hand, tenderly petting over his flippers and huffing softly at the torn scrap of blanket attached to his plating. "Better than I have in a few days, anyways." And Solus' shell expanded, his blue optic brightening.  _ "Good," _ he breathes, eager and pleased. "Let's get you some food, and we can see about whatever Ari wants to do with you." (And he nods, because he can smell the ramen already, and because this is the most awake he has felt in weeks.) 

  
  
  
  
  


Dinner was good- his favorite ramen, with  _ two  _ eggs and nearly half a loaf of bread- Solus had looked proud when he chirped his delight over the cheesy dough. He wolfed down the entire bowl, made it through four out of six slices before sharing the final two with his company. (Ari had grinned teasing, winking at him when she spoke. "How kind our host is," she had joked, "to share some of his wonderful bread." He had pretended to change his mind, and she had nearly tackled him trying to get it back.) The movie was only halfway through before they finished, and Saint had guiltily left after eating- Osiris needed him, Marksman knew, so he waved him off and made him promise to come back with Shaxx tomorrow. In the meantime, Ari had pulled up a chair before him, and he had dipped his head while she set to work with paint and a brush. 

The paint was cool, the brush strokes soft and soothing against his plating. Ari had a hand resting on his cheek, tilting his face back and forth to center the circles as she worked. He cradled the teddy bear in his lap- Solus had gifted it to him, and he had yet to release it. (Its fur was so soft, and he pinched its ear softly between his finger and thumb while he hugged it to his chest and rested his chin on its head while he debated on names.) "Never really seen an exo's eyes this close up." Ari murmurs as she slowly spun the brush, and Marksman hummed quietly before clicking them into different sizes. She laughed when one was bigger than the other, shaking her head as she redipped her brush. "Don't distract me," she scolded, (the television is singing some old song he doesn't recognize, and he notes how bland it sounds compared to Solus' singing.)

Speaking of Solus, the little ghost hadn't stopped glaring at Ari since the moment she'd rested her fingers on his cheek. He can hear the ghosts chattering to one another, beeps and clicks and Solus is  _ pouting,  _ his chirps bitter and cross, and Marksman knows what he's saying without even understanding the language. "My love," he calls, and his shell twisted to attention. "How about Doc?" He picks up one of the teddy's arms, making it wave its paw to the ghost, who giggled softly. "Why Doc?" He replied, and Marksman tilts his head to face him entirely while Ari tidied her paint. "'Cause I got him from my wonderful nurse." He winks, cheeky and playful, and Solus gives a burst of laughter that fades when Ari jerks his head back into position and mutters to herself. "Four by four," she mutters, slanting her eyes as she dotted the grid over his forehead. "Of every design an exo could get, you chose black dots?' He hums his agreement, grinning lazily. "Solus thinks I'm pretty," he points out, tone rich with pride, and Solus interrupts his conversation with Neptune to butt in. "Absolutely stunning, beloved." He corrects quickly. "I think you're beautiful and perfect, not just pretty." Then he turns back to Neptune, leaving Marksman's face to light up with a brilliant warmth that makes Ari grumble. "Don't flirt with him," she calls back to Solus, "he'll melt the paint before it can even dry." (Marksman doesn't tell her how proud that comment makes the ghost.)

A few more minutes of Solus' sulking and Ari's quiet comments, she draws back and nods her approval. "Alright, that'll be waterproof when it dries." (He shudders at mention of  _ water,  _ and she cringes at Solus' glare.) "For when it rains," she adds quickly. "Old paint was all scraped up, this matches your newer plating." He nods softly, still petting at Doc's fur, and Ari rises with a yawn. "Alright, me 'n Tune ought to head home." She announces, and Neptune rose to nuzzle into her hood. "I'll drop by tomorrow with Saint 'n Shaxx, yeah? We gotta get ya back on your feet before trials next weekend." She slaps a hand over his shoulder, smiles softly, and her tone is gentler when she continues. "I'm… I'm happy we didn't lose you. I know you're going through a rough time, but we're your family, and we're gonna be here to help you recover." (And maybe he feels a little choked up at her words, so he nods softly and waves gently when she ducks out of the door.)

Solus moves blankets around until Marksman's nest is put back together, using his shell to nudge his shoulder until he lays down again and resting happily on his place atop his chest. Marksman's fingers raise, gently encasing his shell as he stared up to the ceiling and sighed softly. "My purpose," Marksman murmurs, his voice soft and warm.

"I love you." 

"I love you  _ more _ ." (Marksman laughs.)

"Then I love you  _ most,"  _ he shoots back, and he knows Solus is pouting. "Oh, go to sleep." He grumbles, playful and adoring. "It's three in the morning, and Shaxx won't let you sleep in like Saint." They rest in silence a few more minutes. 

"Solus?"

"Yes, my darling?"

"I can't sleep." 

"Would you like me to sing for you?"

"Please…?" 

And so Solus sings, warm and soft and  _ safe,  _ and there are no dreams of drowning, no serpents overhead, no pain. Just the Guardian, his Ghost, and a teddy bear named Doc. (And their Light, embracing in a tender slowdance of warmth and contact, of gentle love and deep adoration, devotion. A million ' _ I love you' _ s, a dozen  _ 'We are here, we are together' _ s. And Marksman dozes underneath the gentle melodies.)


End file.
